Conquering the Stars and My Haters’ Hearts - Chapter 13

“Newcomers these days, instead of honing their craft, all they think about is using underhanded tricks to climb the ranks. I don’t know what’s happened to the industry.”

“They haven’t even written a handful of books before they’re rushing to hire ghostwriters and ‘water armies’ for hype. It’s pathetic. And to belittle a master like Teacher Wade? I simply can’t stand by and watch!”

“I think we all know who I’m talking about, that newcomer over at The Galaxy. To be so utterly shameless!”

“But I trust everyone has good eyes. A person of such low character can’t possibly write anything worthwhile. Without substance, does he really think hype alone will make him a star? Not everyone is like Teacher Wade, with a unique style and a world-building vision all their own.”

The smear campaign continued for a while, though most of it was just sycophantic flattery directed at Wade. It quickly drew a massive crowd, many of whom were only just learning that such a “scandal” had occurred.

Wade’s social media account was soon flooded with comments from indignant fans. In response, he posted a single update, stating he didn’t mind the noise and that, in the end, “strength speaks for itself.”

In truth, Wade usually wouldn’t have bothered to acknowledge such things. However, since he was about to debut his first web novel on the Tianji Literature City, he saw this as a golden opportunity for publicity. As for Ning Xie’s writing?

He hadn’t bothered to read a single word. To him, Ning Xie was just a rookie; how good could he possibly be?

Wade’s fans, however, were fuming. They swarmed out to humiliate the “shameless” author named Ning Xie, only to realize the person didn’t even have a social media account. Their frustration—much like that of Ferdinand’s fans before them left them with nowhere to vent but the public forums, where they began clashing with the readers who were actually praising Ning Xie’s work.

Some went looking for Ning Xie’s stories specifically to mock them. Yet, after reading a few chapters, they found themselves conflicted. While their mouths continued to spew insults, their fingers kept scrolling; their bodies were being far more honest than their words as they read the stories to the very end.

Meanwhile, the editors at The Galaxy magazine were in a state of panic. Wade was a pillar of their publication, and they didn’t dare offend him. Although he was under contract, he was a “Great God” level author; his contract was incredibly flexible. If he wanted to leave, they had no real way to stop him.

“Maybe we should just reject Ning Xie’s manuscript. He’s just a newcomer. He might be trending now, but he’s nothing compared to Wade.”

“I agree. Ning Xie writes interstellar sci-fi, but Teacher Wade is the master of that genre. Ning Xie is destined to be overshadowed. It’s not worth offending Wade over him.”

“If you ask me, this Ning Xie is too impulsive. He’s barely written two short stories and he’s already desperate for fame. It’s a bad look.”

“Um, it might not necessarily be a paid stunt. Maybe people actually think it’s good.” Xixi, the editor who had originally accepted Xie Anning’s manuscript, spoke up weakly. She was ignored by the others. She was worried sick but felt powerless; after all, she was just a junior editor.

Even if it wasn’t a stunt, public perception had already branded it as one. Perception was reality unless Ning Xie could somehow produce a work better than Wade’s and achieve even more staggering results. Was that even possible?

Maybe in a few years, but right now? It seemed like an exercise in pure arrogance.

“Chief Editor, what do you think?”

The room turned to the man in charge. Most assumed Ning Xie’s career was effectively over.

The Chief Editor put down his book and scanned the room, his expression calm. “Have any of you actually read what Ning Xie wrote?”

“No.” The others faltered. He was just a rookie; they hadn’t seen the point.

“He writes very well,” the Chief Editor stated.

“But he’s offended Teacher Wade.”

“That’s not the point,” the Chief Editor said dismissively. He knew about Wade’s upcoming release. It was obvious that Wade was using this drama to stir up hype for his own debut. In a situation like this, if they kicked Ning Xie out, the fire would die down too quickly. As Chief Editor, he was ambitious. He wanted the flames to grow; the bigger the scandal, the more eyes on his magazine.

As for Ning Xie—even if the writing was mediocre, he would have given him a chance for the publicity alone. But since the work was actually good, there was no way he wouldn’t capitalize on it. Wade likely felt the same way, he clearly didn’t believe a newcomer could actually cause him to “roll over” and fail.

In a tone that brooked no argument, the Chief Editor declared, “I’ve decided. We are giving him a serialization slot.”

After finishing his “gacha” draws, Xie Anning was about to start his livestream when he received the notification from his editor: the magazine was offering him a serialization.

Despite it being good news, Xixi sounded utterly dejected. She even told him that if he didn’t want to do it, he could refuse.

Though they hadn’t known each other long, Xixi truly believed in his talent. She didn’t want to see him used as a sacrificial lamb for a “public execution” and humiliated by the masses.

Xie Anning was initially dazed, but after piecing the situation together, he looked at his “Protagonist’s Halo” (which hadn’t expired yet) and marveled at its efficacy.

“I didn’t expect things to turn out like this.” Xie Anning laughed helplessly. With the experience from his past life, he saw right through the Chief Editor’s plan. The magazine wanted the gimmick to attract readers, and Wade wanted to “abuse” a rival to solidify his fanbase. Everyone stood to gain.

For Xie Anning, this was undoubtedly an opportunity. If he were a true novice, he might have been ruined. But in his past life, Xie Anning was a “Great God” himself. Furthermore, he knew exactly what made a story popular in this world.

If he could truly surpass Wade, the “Popularity Points” he’d gain would be astronomical.

With that in mind, he replied to Xixi: “Of course I’ll write it.”

“Eh? But the opponent is that Wade,” she replied, shocked.

“It’s fine,” Xie Anning said. “I have confidence. Thank you, Xixi.”

Xixi knew that authors could be a proud and confident bunch, but this opponent was a literal monster in the industry. Seeing his resolve, however, she could only sigh and stop trying to dissuade him.

The System’s voice chimed in opportunistically: [If the Host can obtain 1,000,000 Popularity Points in one go through other means before the three-month deadline, the mission will be considered a success.]

Xie Anning breathed a sigh of relief. To be honest, he had more confidence in his writing than his streaming. Writing was his old trade; piloting mechs on camera still felt a bit foreign. He had always planned to make writing his primary career.

He had also realized that Popularity Points weren’t just granted for being noticed; they were generated when others felt admiration, shock, or affection for him. Streams were a blunt way to farm points based on viewer count, but writing hit deeper.

Since he was committing to a long-form work of over a hundred thousand words, he needed to plan his outline carefully. He decided to put the livestream on hold and posted a “leave of absence” notice in his channel.

Jin Xinheng, who had been waiting for Xie Anning to appear so he could issue a formal challenge, went silent. He asked his subordinates coldly, “Didn’t you say this person streams every day?”

Why today of all days? It’s as if he knew I was coming.

No one had an answer. Who could have guessed “Call Me Daddy” would take a day off? They couldn’t exactly force him to go live.

Jin Xinheng was frustrated, but his pride prevented him from sending a friend request; he felt the guy wasn’t worthy of his contact list. Publicly announcing a challenge without the target being present would look desperate. It had to be done in front of a crowd to have the proper impact.

“Fine. He can’t stay offline forever. I’ll wait one more day,” he huffed.

Xie Anning stepped off the aircraft, looking slightly weary.

He had spent a significant amount of time yesterday finishing the opening of his serialization. When he submitted it, even his editor was startled and tried to suggest revisions until she actually read it. Then, she had nothing left to say.

The speed was incredible, but the quality was undeniable. Unlike his previous stories where he only polished key scenes, he used his most sophisticated prose from the very first line of this new work. He chose an interstellar setting again—it looked like a direct provocation to Wade, but Xie Anning simply chose it because it was the most popular genre.

The plot began as a tragedy set in an academy. Since The Galaxy had a predominantly male readership, Xie Anning chose a male protagonist’s perspective. He crafted the leads to be incredibly likable and gave the supporting cast deep, meaningful characterization.

The core of the story wasn’t just romance; it was the protagonist’s career and conviction. In the end, to protect his country and the one he loved, the hero would perish along with the enemy. It wasn’t a tragedy born of amnesia or cheap tropes, but a grounded, realistic end that allowed readers to truly empathize.

As for the title, he didn’t overthink it. He simply used the protagonist’s name: The Starry Heavens.

Even with his experience, the emotional weight of his own outline had nearly drained him. However, the beginning of the story was quite lighthearted—a school setting featuring leads who were “ordinary” people and a “bickering rivals” dynamic. It was the kind of story that made readers smile, featuring characters that felt like people you might actually know in real life.

From the opening chapters, one would never guess the ending would be so devastating. However, Xixi, having learned from her previous experience with him, immediately sensed the overwhelming aura of an impending “heart-wrencher” wafting from the pages.

“Maybe, just maybe, he can actually pull this off,” Xixi couldn’t help but wonder. She quickly shook her head to clear the thought; at this point, the best possible outcome was simply for Xie Anning to avoid being boycotted into oblivion.

The moment Xie Anning stepped off the aircraft, he was met with a wave of passionate gazes. The intensity of the crowd’s stare far surpassed the reaction to his first haircut.

After the events of yesterday, everyone had come to a realization: Xie Anning wasn’t just a pretty face. The guy was a god-tier artistic genius!

Someone with both that level of talent and those looks was easily on par with Ning Xiujin. They wondered why they had been so focused on humiliating him before—a person like this should be put on a pedestal!

“I told you Senior Xie was no ordinary person! You guys just wouldn’t believe me!”

“Puh-lease! You were the one mocking him the loudest. I’m the one who’s always been a true fan!”

“Have you no shame? Everyone knows how you acted before. I’ll admit I used to mock him, but from this day forward, I am his die-hard devotee!”

Xie Anning had anticipated a change in atmosphere, but he hadn’t expected people to argue so fiercely over something so trivial. He offered the crowd a polite smile and tried to walk past, assuming they would just talk. He was wrong.

In the next heartbeat, a swarm of students surged forward, frantically demanding autographs. While the girls maintained a shred of decorum, the male students looked positively ravenous. Xie Anning was forced to subtly exert his mental power just to maintain a sliver of personal space.

One particularly crazed student even stripped off his shirt, begging Xie Anning to sign his bare skin. Only someone as unflappable as Xie Anning could have managed to sign his name calmly under such circumstances. Seeing this, the rest of the crowd turned green with envy and began to follow suit. The sight of a mass of students stripping down at the school gates was nothing short of horrifying.

Had it not been for the school administration summoning him for a meeting, Xie Anning might never have escaped the clutches of his over-enthusiastic peers. As he walked away, he began to seriously consider whether he should adopt a “cold and unapproachable” persona, similar to Anders or Ning Xiujin.